


Lost Voices

by englishmajor226



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 18:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishmajor226/pseuds/englishmajor226
Summary: Love letters, really. Mainly a one shot. Maybe a brief series. Something I sort of had a dream about, that I felt like I had to write. Spoilers for nothing, unless you haven't seen Logan (2017). Remember this is different than the comics. I'm working in the movie verse. <3





	Lost Voices

_ Pequeña _ ,

_ The worst part, for me, is that we never see the sunlight. Harsh fluorescents, all the time, are the only light we get, little one. Fed through tubes. Left with only a handful of space to walk off the pain.  _

_ Because you’ve not made it easy, have you, pequeña? I know that you’re angry. I know it with every fiber of my being. Every day, sickness. Nausea since the start. And since then, rough jabs. Harsh kicks. You kick so hard, little one. I believe, in my bones, it is because you are angry you do not feel the sunlight.  _

_ Will you ever know of the sun? I have tried to escape, pequeña. But I am swollen with you, and now, it is too late. My time will soon be over. If I tried to run, they’d kill us both. If I see this through, and you gasp your first breath, only I will die. You will live with whatever purpose they are intending you to serve.  _

_ I have so many things I wish to tell you. I am not poetic, but I wish I could describe how the sunset looks over the hills over my home town, Tracones. How my brothers would tease me for being too fearful for playing in the ocean when I was young. How the chickens would chase us. How we would scream and laugh in delight when they did so. Or the way the water would lap at the shore. Where we would fish, the strong hands of mi padre steadying my fishing rod. _

_ So strange to be rich with life, pequeña. I am so young, and I’ve never even been with a man. A few stolen glances, a few awkward smiles, maybe a few admirers, but I was not allowed to date yet. In the spring, on my sixteenth birthday, but that time has come and gone inside of this place, after the white pick-up truck outside of Tracones. A blow to the head. A broken rib. And then...nothing but this. And now, you. _

_ I am not sure what I have done, but I fear Dios is punishing me for something. For not taking care of my mother enough when she was ill, perhaps. I was so selfish back then. So angry with her for getting sick. And now she is gone, although I sense I will be reunited with her soon. _

_ I know that you are special. Wild, even. Sometimes, it scares me. Sometimes, you don’t...feel like mine. You don’t feel like  _ me.  _ But here you are, kicking inside me. So angry. So wild. So afraid. I sense what you might be, what the nurses call you when you are born. I know of you. Of the old stories. Mutantes. Los demás. _

_ You are willful. I hope, with everything I am, you make it out of this place. I am calm now, for I suspect this is truth. You will see the light of day. Maybe, perhaps, even lay eyes on the sun as it settles into the ocean. I have nothing to leave you but life, pequeña. That, and a single other gift. I’ve whispered my plea to the nurses, and now I feel it’s in every room of this awful place. So soon you will come they say. So soon. They have a number for you. But I have a name.  _

_ I name you Laura. For my mother, who I wasn’t there for enough. We seem to repeat the past, or, perhaps, now, you will break the mold. I never got to be anything. I sense your strength, and I hope, little one, that you will be everything. This letter will be lost with me, but I will these words, and my love, into all that you are.  _

_ Break free of this place. Become everything. _

_ Love,  _

_ Your mother _

  
  



End file.
